"Aren't you contractually obligated to do a promo this week, Titus-sama?"
[The question rings out as Titus is running some sweet ass Spread Option on some sucker on NCAA Football `11.]
Titus: What?
Aka: You know, for IWF?
Titus: Didn't I do that?
Aka: No.
Titus: I'm pretty sure I did that already.
Aka: No, you didn't, you were too busy, "Jukin' the shit outta fools" on-line that you haven't gotten off of your giant novelty bean bag chair for a solid week except to use the bathroom.
Titus: Are you sure?
Aka: Hai.
Titus: Really?
Aka: Hai.
Titus: I vaguely recall talkin' shit about a cowboy and whatever the other guy vaguely resembles.
Aka: I believe you were playing against a team called the Cowboys.
Titus: So I haven't done anything for IWF?
Aka: No.
Titus: Well fuck, let's fire up the ol'promo machine.
Aka: Hai.
((((((((( PROMO MACHINE ACTIVAtED))))))))
[The Scumdog of the Universe stands in a descriptive setting.]
Titus: Introductory statement.
[Smirk.]
Titus: Mention upcoming event, and name drop opponents. Snide comment about their sexuality, specifically their fondness for oxen. Make sarcastic remark about their wrestling skill.
[Smirk.]
Titus: Describe untold horror that awaits them, pause for pants-shitting to occur.
[Appropriate pause.]
Titus: Summerize and drop catchphrase.
[Blacklists for some, Tiny American Flags for All.]
Titus: And print.
[Money.]